


En Garde, Fuck Boy.

by whyamIalwaysLoislane (Whyamialwaysloislane)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Birthmarks, Crack, Fencing, Fluff, M/M, Soulmates, tumblr post inspiration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whyamialwaysloislane/pseuds/whyamIalwaysLoislane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure Derek has his mark, don't everybody. But Derek is one who keeps his hidden. For a darn good reason. The line En Garde, Fuck boy sprawles across his lower back like some ungodly tramp stamp can be distracting.</p><p>Stiles just has a scribble covering his entire left ankle. </p><p>A Soulmate AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	En Garde, Fuck Boy.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Soulmate AU.](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/78848) by firehouselight, parnela-lansbury, kenezbian:. 



> Inspired By this [Post](http://gildasbitch.tumblr.com/post/100068974935/firehouselight-parnela-lansbury-kenezbian%0A/)  
> The gist is I'm an awful person. I'm super duper sorry I've not been here but have a lovely piece of soulmatey crack for your lovely shipper hearts. I've been super run off my feet and had a few new distractions. But I think I've got the writing bug again.
> 
> (and if Alexi is reading this the Tea fanfic will be up soon.)

“You are coming to fencing, right?” Stiles asked; sliding onto the table Scott and Allison were hogging with their conjoined medical papers.

“I have a practical.” Allison winced a little in an apologetic fashion and returned to her scribbling. Stiles raised his eyebrows expectantly and looked to Scott, who looked as guilty as a dog that had just pooped in his owner’s favourite shoes.

“I have to assist with said practical.” Scott hid behind his Psychology Textbook and Stiles threw a crumpled up ball of paper at his head.

“Grr.” Stiles mock growled, shuffling up so Lydia could park herself next to him. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and plucked her Math book up.

“Is he complaining that no will go poke people with sticks with him?” Lydia asked, using one perfectly manicured hand to flip the pages as she scooped ice cream up with the other.

“It’s fencing. Fencing is cool!” Stiles whined.

“No it’s not sugar, but if you go you might make friends.” Lydia said completely monotone, pressing her finger into the ice cream, turning and wiping it on Stiles’ nose. Stiles scrubbed his nose and frowned at his table. They all sucked.

 

*******

 

Derek doesn’t really know why he signed up for fencing; it seemed the least stupid of all of the college’s extra-curriculum. Including the 20 minute group, which his roommate was part of. He’d spotted Jim over three times, running out of the room in nothing but a towel and holding his wallet when he received the text. See, Stupid.

But still he’s still here, standing outside the sports hall in joggers and an extra-large t-shirt. No thank you is anyone seeing the god awful scrawl across his lower back. It’s back enough the universe gave him a bleeding tramp stamp, he happens to have the words ‘En Garde Fuck Boy’ etched into his skin. The universe seriously has a problem with him, he swears.

“Are you for fencing?” A petite Russian lady, holding a foil beckoned him in. The room was dotted with a few odd people standing on their own and a few clusters of friends giggling. Derek hovered closer to the door, near a tall, lanky boy in jeans that had been cut at the knees as if to make them shorts, glasses and a beanie. He gave Derek a small smile, and then continued to watch the woman. The boy had moles dotted on his ivory skin and eyes like amber. He was so enticed in watching this man he didn’t notice the instructor start talking. “Welcome to this terms Fencing tuition. I am Vasillissa, and I will be your instructor, please kit up then get into a pair. The people you are standing with will work.” She gestured to Derek and the boy to come over.

They stood opposite each other, all dressed in the gear, and poised in the stances Vasilissa had taught.

“Okay. Begin.” She barked, blowing a whistle.

“En Garde, Fuck Boy!” The speckled boy shouted and lunged. Derek completely taken by surprise, allowed the blow, onto to have the boy stumble on his long legs and fall flat onto Derek. Derek let out a loud oomph and whispered.

“Holy Fucking Shit on a Stick.” He could feel the lump forming on the back of his head, and the man surprisingly weighed a ton.

“What did you just say?” The man whimpered, scrambling off him.

“I said, Holy Fucking Shit on a Stick. Damn what on gods earth do you weigh.” Derek rubbed his shoulder and sat up.

“You’re…” He mumbled, face in awe.

“Yes… and you’re…” Derek smiled, gathering his knees.

“I’m Stiles.” He blushed and sat facing Derek.

“Derek.”

“Hello Derek I think we Might be soul mates.”

“No Shit.” Derek smirked as the boy flexed. His sock ran an absurd way up his calf. “Is that?”

“Yeah, stupid place for a thing.” He shrugged, rolling down his sock where in Derek’s penmanship was written ‘Holy Fucking Shit on a Stick.’ Derek traced the words with his finger and the hairs on Stiles’ leg stood up.

“DO you wanna ditch and go get coffee?” Derek asked, hand holding Stiles’ ankle.

“Hell yes.”

 

*******

 

"Shit." Stiles purred, as Derek kissed up his neck. Stiles hands fumbled with Derek's over sized shirt, pulling the hem up and over his head. Stiles noticed a black mark at the base of Derek's spine. "Derek?"

"What?" 

"You never did tell me where your mark was." Stiles smirked, pushing Derek's shoulders and getting a better look at where 'En Garde, Fuck Boy' was scrawled across Derek's back. "And now I know why..." Stiles sniggered.

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on [TUMBLR](http://gildasbitch.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
